


with eyes the size of baby worlds (setting in a honeymoon)

by lizwillstealyourgirl



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 27 Years Later (IT), Adult Losers Club (IT), California, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak-centric, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Road Trips, but still not canon compliant, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwillstealyourgirl/pseuds/lizwillstealyourgirl
Summary: “Fine,” Eddie agrees. “But we’re taking my car. Not yours.”“Stacy is a masterpiece and she deserves better than this,” Richie protests, even as Eddie pushes against Richie’s knees and spins back to his desk.“Stacy is a piece of garbage and you never should’ve purchased her,” Eddie says back.[ two old men go on a road trip, and fall in love over and over again ]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not beta read! fuck that! also this is absolute bullshit! i wrote half of it while feverish and the other half while avoiding the essay that's worth 85% of my grade thats due in 2 days! please enjoy!
> 
> (for context of a conversation that happens further in this fic: it follows canon in that richie is a comedian and eddie is a risk analyst, but eddie realizes he fucking hates his job and actually he likes the idea of helping people like he sometimes did when they were kids so he decides to start working from home so that he can do some online schooling and eventually he'll do some hands on stuff (thinking of sending him to USF bc it's my dream school and i'm wearing a USF shirt RIGHT NOW!) and become a Nurse and stuff!)

****“Let’s go on a road trip,” Richie demands, sitting up from his spot on his bed. 

Eddie quirks a brow and spins around in his desk chair to look at his boyfriend. “We’re 40 years old, Richie. Why would we go on a road trip?”

Richie scoffs, waving his hand dismissively. “We can do whatever the fuck we want,” Richie responds cooly. “We could road trip to visit Ben and Bev. Or Bill, Stan, and Mike. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Bill, Stan, and Mike are in Portland, and Ben and Bev are in New York fucking City. You want to road trip from the greater Los Angeles area to fucking Portland? That’s like, 15 hours _ minimum _. And we’re 40. We’d never survive.”

“Eddie,” Richie pleads, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing the seat of Eddie’s chair and pulling him closer, legs spread so Eddie’s chair rolls between them. Eddie huffs out a laugh and lets Richie lace their fingers together. “We missed out on a lot of shit. I’ll never get to take you to a school dance, or hold your hand in the halls, or be your first kiss, or - or any of that shit. I wanted all of it, but it’s too late for that. But we can still fulfill my 16 year old self’s dream of going on a multi-day road trip with you across California. C’mon. Please.”

Eddie falters. Gas would be expensive, and he’d have to take a few days off work and school to make it happen, and being locked in a car with Richie for two days is really just a traumatic accident waiting to happen. But, he reminds himself, they could afford the gas, and he had half a million vacation days saved up, and a week away from school wouldn’t be the end of the world, and being locked in a car with Richie for two days actually doesn’t sound _ that _ bad. Well, it sounds bad, but only as bad as everything with Richie sounds.

He rolls his eyes, but leans down to press a firm kiss to Richie’s lips. “Fine,” he agrees as he pulls away. “But we’re taking my car. Not yours.”

“Stacy is a masterpiece and she deserves better than this,” Richie protests, even as Eddie pushes against Richie’s knees and spins back to his desk.

“Stacy is a piece of garbage and you never should’ve purchased her,” Eddie says back.

* * *

That night, while Eddie puts in a request for the next week off, Richie opens a group video chat with the entire Losers Club. He begs for Bill, Stan, and Mike to let Eddie and him come visit, and though they act reluctant at first, Eddie knows they’ll agree eventually. Eddie always cleans their house as thanks and Richie is surprisingly really good with their foster kids, despite how big and stupid he acts all the time. After a while, Stan relents, and says, “Fuck you, Richie, just come.” Then, Beverly and Ben say they’ll fly out too, so it could be a Losers reunion.

From his desk, Eddie calls over his shoulder, “If Ben and Bev are coming, I expect my niece to be there too.”

Beverly clicks her tongue, but Ben laughs. “She’ll be there,” Ben agrees.

“Do you want to see me too, Eddie? Or am I just a baby-maker for you?”

"Well, I _ do _want to see Ben,” Eddie teases. The Losers all laugh, even Beverly, despite her gasping and flipping Eddie off.

“Honey,” Richie says, “go back to work. Stop bullying Bev.”

“Whatever, dickbreath,” Eddie retorts, but lands a kiss on Richie’s cheek anyway. Richie doesn’t blush, except he kind of does, with his cheeks turning pinkish and lips quirking upwards.

“I love the pet names you have for each other,” Bill teases. “_ Honey _ and _ dickbreath _. That’s true love. Why don’t you two call me that?”

“Stan calls you _ love _ ,” Mike points out. “And I call you _ babe _ all the time. Stop complaining.”

Bill pouts, but when Stan presses a fluttering kiss to his lips, Bill mouth upturns into one of his token grins. Beverly coos at the scene, and Richie gags.

“Look at us, all in love,” Ben giggles, and Eddie tunes everything out except for the work ahead of him and the light weight of Richie’s hand on his thigh.

* * *

Two days later, they set off on their 15-hour, two-day road trip. Richie sits in the passenger seat and scrolls through his Spotify playlist while Eddie drives through the shitfest that is LA early morning traffic. By the time they finally make it through out of the greater Los Angeles area, Eddie is beyond annoyed with Richie, who’s spent the entire morning with his bare feet on the dashboard and hands drumming to the beat of every fucking song.

“Richie,” Eddie scolds at some point, somewhere around 8 AM, just as the morning sun starts to beat down on their skin. “I will kill you if you keep banging on my fucking car. She’s sensitive.”

“Why do you call both of our cars _ she _ ? Why don’t we have a male car?” Richie pulls his feet off the dashboard even as he speaks, and tugs his knees in close to his chest, turning a little so that his back is against the window and he’s facing Eddie full on. Eddie very decidedly does _ not _ turn to look at him, even though he is tempted, but through his peripheral vision he can see Richie crossing his arms over his legs and propping his chin on the backs of his hands. “Hey, honey, can we make our first stop? I have an idea.”

Eddie then _ does _ look at Richie, who is smiling so wide Eddie wonders absentmindedly if his cheeks will start to hurt after a while. He shrugs, though, and smiles back. “Sure,” he agrees. “Where?”

“Morro Bay,” Richie responds. “This is your first time in California, right? I think you’ll really like it. And if you don’t, that sucks for you, because I love Morro Bay.”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Eddie replies. “What exit, then?”

They pull into a parking lot in Morro Bay just before the clock strikes 9. Richie drags them into a little cafe he’s apparently been to before, and orders himself a hot chocolate and a latte for Eddie. There’s something stupid inside of Eddie that appreciates Richie remembering, even if they’re _ dating _, and they have been for a couple months now. Eddie lets his hand creep into Richie’s, and he squeezes tightly just to feel Richie squeeze back.

Richie pulls him onto Morro Rock, pulling him excitedly towards the beach as if he were still the lanky, pimplish teenager he used to be, seeing the elephant seals for the first time. Eddie lets himself be dragged, lets himself be pushed up against a fence, Richie’s body pressed flush along his back, lets himself lean back into Richie’s hold as he wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist and tucks his head into Eddie’s shoulder. He makes an excessive amount of lewd comments about the elephant seals looking like they have dicks on their faces, and Eddie laughs, even though he’ll deny he ever found Richie funny. It’s cold, it’s windy, but Richie is warm against him, and Eddie feels alive.

An hour later, they’re still driving. Richie is still playing music, though he’s moved on from the shit he_ actually _ listens to, to the weird sing-along shit from musicals that Stan/Bill/Mike’s kids like to blast whenever they come to visit. Richie knows all the words to the songs from _ Lemonade Mouth _, and Eddie manages to film a clip of him rapping for their group chat.

Another hour passes, but now, the music is quieter in the background. Richie is back in that weird position where he’s turned to face Eddie, head propped up on his arms which are propped up on his knees so he can watch Eddie drive, and Eddie has to breathe slow and heavy so he doesn’t blush under the scrutiny from Richie’s warm eyes. They’re 40 years old. They’ve been looking at each other for 30 years. How is it that Eddie still forgets how to breathe when Richie looks at him for too long?

Now, the music is quieter, because Richie is speaking softly. They’re talking about everything, even though they’ve already talked about everything a million times over. There’s something about this car that makes time seem to slow, like they’re in the in-between forever, so Eddie doesn’t mind asking the questions he sometimes shies away from.

“Have you talked to your parents recently?” Eddie asks.

“No,” Richie admits. “Have you talked to Myra?”

“No,” Eddie says too.

They talk about it. How Richie hates to call his parents because Maggie and Wentworth don’t understand, have never understood, _ will never understand _ that Richie is gay and has always been gay and will always be gay and it’s not one of those things he asked for or chose or wanted, but it instead is something he simply can’t be rid of; how Eddie still is in between places to live, bouncing from a hotel in New York City when he can’t get away with phonecall meetings for too long and Richie’s apartment when he can; how he’s afraid to talk to Myra and ask if she’s signed the divorce papers yet, because he can’t bear the thought of her saying no; how Richie is trying to write a fucking comedy special but can’t seem to make it through the bits about Eddie without _ talking _about Eddie; how they’re old as fuck, and they’re not getting any younger, and Eddie already stays with Richie more than half the time so, “Why don’t you just move in?”

“W-what?” Eddie stutters, taken aback by the suddenness of Richie’s suggestion.

Richie laughs. “Nice, Denbrough,” he responds, and before Eddie looks back at the road, he slaps Richie’s thigh. “Move in with me. Come live in California. Quit your job. You’re already studying to be a nurse, you might as well quit now. Come on.”

Eddie wants to say no, because it _ must _ be a horrible idea, but also, Eddie has spent his entire life thinking about all the things that _ must _ be horrible ideas and more often than not, he’s fucking wrong. He wants to say no, objectively, but Eddie falters and toys with the idea of him and Richie living together for a second - their toothbrushes next to each other, two sunshine children who grew up just to fall in love a second time, car keys in the bowl near the front door, maybe even a dog bed to the right of theirs - and all of a sudden, Eddie _ can’t _ say no.

“Okay,” he agrees. “_ If _ you call your mom and tell her about us.”

“Okay,” Richie agrees too. “If _ you _ call Myra.”

“Okay,” Eddie says one more time, and then, just because he can - because he’s fucking allowed to - he pulls Richie’s hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to his calloused, scarred knuckles. He doesn’t say _ I love you _, but he doesn’t need to. Richie knows.

Now, when they leave, Richie drives. The next time they stop, almost 5 hours have passed since Morro Bay, and they pull into a parking garage half a mile away from Pier 39, in front of a gigantic Macy’s building, because Richie _ insists _ it’s the best parking spot in San Francisco. It’s crowded, and Eddie fucking hates parking in garages because they seem objectively untrustworthy, but he agrees. 

While they’re walking, Richie tucks their hands together. It’s 2016, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but Eddie still feels all squirmy inside at the thought of someone seeing him. He wonders if his mother were still alive, what she would say; he also doesn’t give a fuck about her. No one looks their way, and it seems like every other store has a rainbow flag or a sign that says _ LOVE IS LOVE _ or some other gay shit, so Eddie lets the surge of pride take over him and he pulls Richie in just half an inch closer. If Richie notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“How many times have you been here?” Eddie asks, because it’s driving him insane that Richie can navigate this walk just like he navigates the city he actually lives in. (_ They _ live in, now. Eddie lives in Los Angeles now. That’s fucking weird.)

Richie shrugs. “A bunch,” he admits. “Went to school here, at SFSU, until I could transfer to a school in LA. That was a long time ago, though. Only been here a couple times since then.”

"I didn’t know you went to school here,” Eddie responds. Richie shrugs again.

Richie pulls him around another corner, and now, they’re on Pier 39, and it’s only lunch time, so it’s freezing in the way San Francisco always is, but it’s also fucking amazing and Eddie can’t help but fall in love with the way the streets are as loud and alive as the people are. Richie leads him to the aquarium, and pays for a ticket for both of them, and even though Eddie’s actually hungry as fuck, he follows Richie through the entire building, laughing about the weirdass fish they see and the names Richie gives them like he’s putting on a show for more than just Eddie.

“We should come back here sometime,” Eddie says as they share a giant cup of donut holes on a bench that overlooks the San Francisco Bay. From where they’re sat, they can see Alcatraz, along with a few other islands Eddie doesn’t know the names of, and half a dozen boats floating underneath the Golden Gate Bridge.

Richie smiles at him and pops another donut hole into his mouth. There’s only two left, so Eddie takes another. Richie can have the last one. “Yeah?” Richie asks. “My manager wants me to go to Pride. Maybe we can come back for that.”

It’s September. Pride isn’t until June. Eddie thinks that could work anyway, seeing as they have the rest of their lives to come back. June isn’t so far away in the long run.

“That sounds good,” Eddie responds, because it does, and just because he can - because he’s _ fucking _ allowed to, again and again, still, forever, he gets to - he cups his hand around Richie’s jaw and pulls him in for one of those kisses that always has Eddie’s stomach tying itself into knots. It’s 2016, and no one looks their way, there’s not one person in the entire city of San Francisco that bothers to give a shit about two 40 year olds making out on a bench on Pier 39, and Eddie feels fucking alive again.

The next stop they make is 5 hours later, at a Best Western in Mount Shasta. Richie admits now that he has never been this far in Northern California, but that he sort of prefers the weather here than in Los Angeles. Eddie imagines, just for a second, that they could live here one day. 

Eddie grabs all their stuff from the trunk of the car while Richie books a room. The hostess does half a double take when Richie asks for a one bedroom, but it’s California, and Eddie’s in love with California, and all the hostess does is slide over a set of keys and smile at Richie politely. When Eddie comes through the doors, Richie whoops and jiggles the keys loudly at him. Eddie grins, rolls his eyes, and lets Richie kiss him lightly in the middle of the Best Western lobby. It’s 2016, and they’re 40 years old, and Eddie’s too in love with Richie to mind anymore.

When Eddie wakes in the morning, it’s at the hands of Richie as he bounces on the bed, calling Eddie’s name. “Let’s go see the trees,” Richie squeaks, like he’s a toddler on Christmas morning. “Eds! Wake up! Trees!”

“Fucking hell,” Eddie says groggily. He’s learned not to question Richie, but he doesn’t necessarily want to just _ agree _ . “What trees?” he asks, because that’s better than saying _ What the fuck do you mean, Richie? _

“Mount Shasta,” Richie explains, jumping off the bed and pulling off the boxers he slept in, just to throw on a clean pair as well as a clean pair of jeans. “It’ll be pretty. Come on. Wake up.”

Eddie agrees, but only because he can never say no to Richie. That’s really not a good excuse if he thinks about it too hard.

They spend the morning in Mount Shasta. There’s only 5 hours left on their drive, so they take their time, order a coffee near the park and walk around the picnic grounds, hand in hand. Eddie exaggerates just how _ cold _ he really is so Richie pulls him in closer, wraps an arm around his shoulder and presses a kiss to his temple. At some point, Richie asks him, “Hey, did you know Mount Shasta is apparently like a super high-threat, very dangerous, active volcano?” and Eddie punches him in the side because of it. They order more coffee on their way out, and some donuts to-go, and the morning seems to pass them by. Richie’s driving now, and he pulls over to take a picture of Eddie (who flips off the camera) in front of the _ OREGON WELCOMES YOU! _ sign as they cross the state line.

2 hours pass, and they stop at Crater Lake, because Eddie’s always wanted to see it. Richie takes photos of him there too, but Eddie doesn’t find out until afterwards, when he sees Richie’s set the one of Eddie pointing and laughing at a bird crashing into a tree as his home screen. (His lock screen is of all the Losers, but Eddie is sitting in Richie’s lap, and his arms are wrapped around his waist and everyone’s grinning at the camera. Eddie can’t remember who took the photo, but it doesn’t matter much.)

They’re off again. Another hour passes. They stop for gas, and Eddie starts to drive because he hates Richie’s driving. Whenever Eddie drives, the car is a little bit louder with his road rage, and Richie always smiles at Eddie flipping off the other drivers on the road like Eddie just said Richie was the love of his life or something. Being assholes is their love language.

One more hour passes, and there’s one more hour left, and Richie asks Eddie to pull over. Eddie thinks Richie has to pee or vomit or something, so he complies, but the second Eddie puts the car in park, all Richie does is lean in to kiss Eddie firmly.

“We’re on the side of the freeway, dumbass,” Eddie says against Richie’s lips.

Richie smiles, and dives in again. Eddie makes a mental note to give Richie shit for this later, but he decides he’d rather just make out for now, so he buries his hands into Richie’s unruly curls and tilts his head so he can kiss Richie deeper, better, _ more _. Again and again and again, Eddie feels alive. (It’s Richie. Richie makes Eddie feel alive.)

The last hour passes, and all of a sudden, they’re in Portland, Oregon, pulling into the driveway of the Stan/Bill/Mike and kids household, parked alongside Stan’s car and Mike’s truck, and Richie doesn’t even bother knocking before swinging the front door open and shouting inside, “Honey, I’m home!”

Stan walks up to Richie and immediately pushes him outside. “You suck,” he deadpans. Eddie is watching and recording everything from his spot on the lawn, laughing all the time. “I can’t believe I was manipulated into letting you visit. Leave. Your boyfriend sucks too.”

“Hey!” Richie squawks indignantly. “Leave my man out of this. He did nothing wrong.”

“He’s just as bad as you,” Stan corrects, and Eddie gasps. He marches up to the front door, sliding under Richie’s arm like it’s exactly where he belongs, and sticks his tongue out at Stan.

“You suck more,” Eddie says.

Stan sticks his tongue out back. “You suck _ most _.”

Mike comes outside now too, lacing his fingers with Stan’s. “Stop being mean to our friends,” he demands half-heartedly. “Even if they deserve it.”

“We drove 15 hours to visit you fuckers,” Eddie complains. “Be grateful.”

Bill holds onto Stan’s other hand, and scoffs. “Be grateful? For what? Now we have to pay for your food and shit.”

“Point,” Stan agrees, and kisses Bill’s cheek. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason.” Mike pouts, so Stan rolls his eyes and kisses his cheek too. “You’re _ also _ my favorite,” he says, voice half of a whine. Mike grins, and Richie groans.

“Stop it!” he insists. “You’re being gross and coupley. Stop.” Eddie chooses not to point out how Richie is holding onto him like he’s afraid Eddie will float away, and instead, hums his agreement.

Stan rolls his eyes, and lets them back inside. Bill leads them up the entryway stairs, but stops before heading down the hall. “You remember where the guest room is?”

Eddie doesn’t, but Richie seems to, because he says, “I got it.” Eddie follows Richie with their bags in tow, and it was only 5 hours, but long drives make him feel distant and far away and halfway whole, so he flops onto the bed and lets Richie stack their bags in the far corner of their room. He lays down next to Eddie after a minute, elbow propping his head up as he traces his fingers over the patch of exposed skin from Eddie’s shirt riding up on his stomach. Eddie keeps his eyes shut, but he reaches over to grab onto Richie’s forearm.

“You okay?” Richie asks, voice uncharacteristically soft. Eddie smiles.

“Never better,” he says, and it’s the truth. Eddie’s alive.

* * *

The next Losers reunion is held in their home, two years later, and they all go to Disneyland. This time, Stan/Bill/Mike and Ben and Beverly are not the only ones with kids; this time, Richie and Eddie have a little four year old girl that takes half a million pictures with Donald Duck and Maleficent, her two favorite characters of all time. The photo of them and Abigail in front of Cinderella’s Castle is framed and lands itself on the mantle of their fireplace, alongside a picture of Richie and Eddie getting married at San Francisco Pride. They are far too old to waste another minute, and yet, they have the rest of their lives ahead of them. Here, hand in hand with Richie and Abigail, only a few feet from the family they made together, Eddie feels alive.


	2. Chapter 2

hey guys! this is not an update. sorry for playing with your feelings if you expected it to be.

i know that fanfiction is supposed to be a safe place, away from the horrible reality that we live in. i know. you can skip this chapter if you want. i can't stop you. and while i don't have much of a platform on ao3 - i'm by no means a popular author, but my fics do moderately well - i do know someone, somewhere, is going to read this. and hopefully, i can educate you on something i really, really care about in the aftermath of something that really pissed me off.

so _somebody_ posted some shady shit today and i wanna take this as an opportunity to remind **non-black people** of some key things.

1\. Black lives matter. always. unconditionally. in every city, state, country, you live in. in every language you speak. in every circumstance.** Black lives matter.**

2\. believing that Black lives matter doesn't mean shit if you're not having all the provocative conversations you can have. i'm not saying pick a fight with your abusive parents, obviously, but every day you should take every opportunity possible to educate someone. tweet something. post on instagram. have a tough conversation with someone that said something hurtful. i know it's hard to sit your mom down and tell her it's fucked up when she says blue lives matter, but imagine how the world feels for Black people. 

3\. educate yourself. the movement is not over until Black people are safe. sign a petition, go to a protest, donate to a gofundme, do something, anything. 

* * *

if you're like me, youtube is your favorite resource for education. here are some great informative and helpful videos.

_ **LAST WEEK TONIGHT WITH JOHN OLIVER** _

**Ferguson, MO, and Police Militarization** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUdHIatS36A>

**Police Accountability ** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaD84DTGULo>

**Police ** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wf4cea5oObY>

_ **JADA JONES** _

**want to be educated? this is the video for you...** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKGkXoF60Ik>

** _THE DAILY SHOW WITH TREVOR NOAH_ **

**America Protests Police Brutality and Systemic Racism ** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YknhztcrURY>

_ **PATRIOT ACT WITH HASAN** _ ** MINHAJ**

**We Cannot Stay Silent About George Floyd ** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_FE78X-qdY>

_ **TEDX TALKS ** _

**Eliminating Microaggressions: The Next Level of Inclusion (Tiffany Alvoid)** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPqVit6TJjw>

**50 years of racism - why silence isn't the answer (James A. White Sr.) ** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9DDE7NV1Nw>

_ **ROB BLISS** _

**Holding A Black Lives Matter Sign in America's Most Racist Town** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltmlvk9GAto>

and in my opinion, the most heart wrenching one:

_ **GREAT BIG STORY** _

**Black Lives Matter Protests Around the World** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Vl4I0weXPU>

* * *

hopefully that moved you. if it didn't, i have nothing to say to you. if it did, here are some ways you can help.

<https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/>

> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#petitions>
> 
> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#donate>
> 
> <https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#text>

[https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/](https://blacklivesmatter.com/resources/?__cf_chl_jschl_tk__=a1ac1fa6f7f8b0a72a857a03f3b8105739500096-1599100124-0-AZTNFo8Cfx0fa3opjRHvoVtq4jxSoPuD_ADm5PUPui_-dUNRaSRV0zEdUs3Htyia-cTVITPP_CGmJaxRqn3TJnOaPUe8o2-L6jO406RTGIKG5CzXCn9WjEVXn1o_iz_93rMGLMXz2__VRpC0G7DfJiJHRILzQF3oUk2x3RkjWSV66NUnzfZ3bWJzMxyhh9E5R2IuQbPFWB2wI5mGP4YMcY8u4FDAWxTejgAYiUICsahlo5OcgAMYw91nOoZpz6to4Cv7eh_nfVehfzdhZKiG0AzF8sIXcY0UKETdaU-LstacqHmA4qIvJd1VFS_-7C6kRXtwiOVnOx6OFWwZh7JAtaMr-kMDv3DAknireXggns_5)

<https://www.manrepeller.com/2020/06/black-lives-matter-resources.html>

<https://docs.google.com/document/u/1/d/1yxj0kSC2-LzINUlfNMEV_Qi-7ZtWCTLSua3Z-9XFNqA/mobilebasic>

* * *

and here are the names you cannot forget.

<https://sayevery.name/>

* * *

the world is a big scary place, but it's even scarier when you're at risk of being murdered with no justice for the color of your skin. now is not the time to stay silent. if you are not Black, you are obligated to stand up for the Black community. your whiteness could save somebody's life.

> When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would always say to me, _Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping._
> 
> \- Fred Rogers

now is the time for you to be a helper.

change starts with us.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! read my other fics also please! if u liked this one! ily!
> 
> shazameroos.tumblr.com


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